


Precipitous Descent

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [74]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 01:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17674154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: It’s too hard to think when Bryce is touching him. That’s always been Jared’s problem.





	Precipitous Descent

It takes fifteen hours for Jared to regret it.

Fifteen hours because dinner is summarily ditched for some pretty fucking spectacular sex, and food ordered in, eaten in bed, and then there’s some more spectacular sex, but slower, and yeah, there was holding hands and looking deep into each other’s eyes that time, Jared’s not going to lie, that was some epic making love shit.

But Jared wakes up alone — he has a vague memory of Bryce nudging him awake and Jared grumpily accepting a goodbye kiss, but by the time he’s up, Bryce has already left for practice. He’s halfway through making coffee when he goes cold all over, because there’s this ring on his finger, this ring that is a _giant fucking deal_ , and _fuck_ , Jared’s not even nineteen yet, and apparently engaged, and it’s —

It’s not that Jared wasn’t thinking when he said yes, it’s just —

Okay, Jared wasn’t thinking. And he’s not — it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with Bryce, because he does, or that he doesn’t want to marry him, because the second it was even a thing he was seriously contemplating every single part of his body lit up with this feeling of _rightness_ , it’s just —

It’s a serious fucking thing, and he’s pretty sure it’s a public fucking thing, and considering Jared can count on two hands how many people know they’re together, and that those two hands are at the very edge of Bryce’s comfort level, that’s not compatible with declaring lifelong commitment to one another, especially since it’s the kind of thing anyone could look up, if the media is any indication.

Jared googles how public wedding records are between bitter sips of coffee, his stomach roiling. Apparently it isn’t actually something you can look up in Alberta unless you’re the ones who are married, their lawyers, or next-of-kin. Jared thinks for a minute, checks BC too in case, but they require written authorization from the people married, so either way, no nosy journalist can just go to city hall and ask if Bryce Marcus is married and get a certificate or anything. So that’s — something, at least. But just because it isn’t public record doesn’t mean that people aren’t going to find out, and Bryce doesn’t want people to know, so what the hell is he even doing?

Once Jared starts down the rabbit hole he can’t stop, looks up everything about getting married, not only in Alberta, but in general, and not just getting married, what being married means, legally, from legal rights to finances to criminal prosecution, and it’s just — Jared knew some of this stuff, but he wasn’t thinking about it when he was saying yes, was barely past ‘I do’ in his head. 

There’s no way Bryce has thought of it, not when you consider who’d have to know about them being married — their families and their agents are just the start. They’d need a lawyer, probably. Bryce’s accountant would know, and when Jared gets the accountant he needs to, well, they’d know too. Their teams would probably have to know. They’d be each other’s next-of-kin, so, scratch that — the Flames would definitely have to be told. If Jared made it, the Oilers would know too. If they’d even be willing to pick him up, knowing he was hitched to the enemy. 

Jared can’t say he’s ever envied Dan Riley, the position he was forced into, but fuck, now he _feels_ like him, the perceived albatross around the neck of an all-star player. He’s sure Bryce’s agent thinks of him as that. The Flames, if they did know, and they would know, if they did this. The media, if they found out. The fans, _fuck_.

Jared needs to talk to — someone about this, he doesn’t know. Not Greg, who’d probably freak out even more than Jared’s freaking out, or his parents, who — who fucking said _no_ , who says _no_ when they’re asked for permission, what fucking _right_ do they have, deciding Jared’s life? 

Raf, maybe. Raf might be calm enough about it to bring Jared down. Or Chaz. Except Jared feels like Bryce would be upset if he told Chaz or Raf or, hell, Greg or his parents — not that either of those are conversations he wants to have right now — and it’s probably kind of a fucking problem if your fiancé doesn’t actually want anyone to know he _is_ your fiancé. Kind of a fucking problem when your fiancé is ashamed he even loves you. Jared’s pretty sure that’s not a solid foundation for a marriage.

Jared spends the rest of the morning googling everything he can think of, every step involved in getting married, in being married, and this isn’t going to work. This isn’t going to work, not the way it should, because so much of it requires shit Bryce isn’t going to be willing to do.

When Bryce comes home that afternoon, Jared doesn’t move from his spot on the couch. It’s too late to. He wishes he’d gone somewhere, anywhere, so that this wouldn’t be a conversation he was about to have. He’s not ready for it. He doesn’t want to have it at all, honestly, but what’s the alternative, going along with things until Bryce realises exactly what’s involved and balks?

“Hey,” Bryce says as he’s shrugging his coat off, so cheerful it makes Jared feel worse.

“Hey,” Jared says.

“What’s wrong?” Bryce says, before he’s even within five feet of Jared, so Jared guesses something must’ve given him away. Guesses he doesn’t have a choice about the conversation being right now.

“I—” Jared says.

“Hey,” Bryce says, and he’s suddenly right in Jared’s space, hand on Jared’s cheek. Left hand, no ring. Jared can’t imagine Bryce wearing one. What’s he going to do if they’re married? A ring would just invite questions he’s not willing to answer. “What happened?”

Jared pulls away, tucks himself against the couch’s arm, knees up, giving himself some sort of barrier. It’s too hard to think when Bryce is touching him. That’s always been Jared’s problem.

Bryce looks confused, then hurt, and Jared _hates_ this. He wishes he hadn’t opened the damn box. “What’s wrong?” Bryce repeats.

“Sit down?” Jared asks, and Bryce does, just far enough away that Jared has room to breathe.

“You know that marrying me would be like,” Jared says. “Kind of something that might get out. Like, you thought of that, right?”

“Being with you has always been something that might get out,” Bryce says.

“It considerably ups the odds,” Jared says. “Like, I couldn’t even wear this ring outside the apartment without people asking if I’m married, and I feel like you’re not going to want me to answer that honestly.”

“I mean,” Bryce says, then kind of stalls, like he can’t deny it but doesn’t want to agree either, and it’s just — what are they _doing_ here?

“Right,” Jared says. “I thought so.”

“Are you—” Bryce says. “Are you mad at me or something?” 

“No,” Jared says. “I’m just — you know marrying me is a permanent thing. You know that, right?”

“Obviously I know that it’s permanent,” Bryce says. “Why do you think I _asked_ you?”

“I think you’re sometimes — impulsive,” Jared says. “And you don’t really think about consequences of things. So if you, you know, suddenly had this idea it’d be cool to be married, and you didn’t really, you know, think about what it meant—”

“I’m not — I bought that ring months ago,” Bryce says. “This isn’t — do you really think I’m so stupid I would just, what, decide I wanted to marry you just like, as a whim?”

“I’m not saying you’re stupid,” Jared says. “Just—”

“You kind of are,” Bryce says. “You’re saying I don’t think about anything I’m doing, and you’re telling me that’s not calling me stupid?”

“Bryce,” Jared says.

“If you don’t — I know I’m sure about you,” Bryce says. “I don’t have to — you’re it for me, okay? And I know I want to marry you. So if that makes me stupid, whatever, Jared.”

“Seriously, impulsive doesn’t necessarily mean stupid—” Jared says.

“It wasn’t impulsive either,” Bryce says. “That’s what I’m _saying_.”

“Okay, fine, but you clearly didn’t think it through,” Jared says.

“Do you not want to get married or what?” Bryce asks. “Is that what you’re saying? Because I don’t know why you said yes if you don’t.”

“I _do_ ,” Jared says. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to. But that was like, instinct, you know? I know I want to be with you for like, ever, but that doesn’t mean — you literally just came out to your grandparents three months ago. Your grandma _still_ doesn’t know you’re gay.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Bryce asks. “Like — why do you always make it about that, Jared, _fuck_.”

“It’s kind of fucking relevant to the situation,” Jared snaps.

“ _How_?” Bryce asks.

“You know people are going to _know_ we’re married, right?” Jared asks. “Like, the person who marries us? Is totally going to be aware you’re in gay fucking love with me. Your accountant? Is going to have to list me as your spouse on taxes. And like, never mind the _Flames_. Have you even thought of that shit? This isn’t like — if you want a symbolic sign of your love or whatever, legally tying yourself to me isn’t the way to go. You’re clearly not taking this seriously.”

“I’m not taking this seriously?” Bryce says. “I fucking propose and I’m _not taking this seriously_?”

“You’re treating it like, I don’t know,” Jared says. “Like this sweet romantic thing to do and not something like — I don’t think you’ve actually considered what’s involved.”

“How many times are you going to call me stupid today?” Bryce asks.

“You’re not stupid,” Jared says. “It’s just - I don’t think you think through the consequences of things.”

“Oh good,” Bryce says. “Now you’re throwing _that_ in my face.”

“I didn’t mean—” Jared says, but honestly, it’s not like it isn’t relevant either. Bryce’s past has been riddled with mistakes he made in the heat of the moment. Jared doesn’t want to be one too. “I just mean it’s kind a pattern for you.” 

“It’s kind of a pattern for me,” Bryce repeats, voice dark. “What’s kind of a pattern for me?”

‘Stupid decisions’, Jared thinks, but doesn’t say, because he hasn’t called Bryce stupid today, even if Bryce thinks otherwise, and he’s not going to start.

“You know what, fuck this,” Bryce snaps, getting up and heading straight for the door.

“How the fuck do you think you’re ready to marry me if we can’t even have a conversation without you walking away whenever you don’t like what I’m saying?” Jared asks.

“You call this a conversation?” Bryce asks. “Telling me I’m an idiot who doesn’t think anything through is a conversation?”

“Fine, argument,” Jared says. “You think we’re never going to argue? You put a ring on my finger and I’m suddenly going to start going along with whatever you ask?”

“I don’t know,” Bryce bites out. “It seemed you were happy to go along with what I asked last night.”

“Because I wasn’t _thinking_ ,” Jared says, and that comes out wrong, he knows that comes out completely wrong, but he can’t fix it before Bryce is slamming the front door behind him.


End file.
